


Sex Chicken or how Neal Caffrey got his groove back.

by be_a_rebel



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-21
Updated: 2010-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_a_rebel/pseuds/be_a_rebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things he's done in his life, indulging in a game of sex chicken with an FBI agent who has caught him (twice) and his very short wife is probably the most dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Chicken or how Neal Caffrey got his groove back.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish I owned White Collar.
> 
> A/N: Inspired by scribblinlenore 's brilliant story Quid Pro Quo. Follows on that theme. Wise to read that before you read this, otherwise you'll be a bit confused. Also, you should read that because it is fantastic.

Of all the things he's done in his life, indulging in a game of sex chicken with an FBI agent who has caught him (twice) and his very short wife is probably the most dangerous.

But that's not going to stop him.

Neal starts off slow. He's not going to spook Elizabeth. He's pretty sure that if he freaks her out Peter is never going to touch him again and that is not something he wants.

His friendship (relationship) with Peter is complicated. Elizabeth (El) is their buffer. Except that she's better than that, especially when she smirks at Neal and touches his knee with her thumb at the Burkes dining table. While her charming husband is threatening to throw Neal's ass back in jail.

Again.

He's starting to get comfortable, impervious.

He also wants to suck Peter's cock. This is new. He's flirted with men, conned them, kissed a few.

But it hasn't been like this. This is crazy. He's hard all the time and Peter is there all the time and he wants more manhandling and if he sees Peter's handcuffs once more he's very sure he's going to lean over and bite Peter on the wrist.

So he's going a bit insane.

The rules of the game appear to be this.

1\. Don't touch Peter directly.  
2\. Touch Peter's wife.

They appear simple and direct.

Neal's never been good at simple.

So he starts off slow. He kisses her again. It's slower, warmer and she's ready for it. They're smiling against each other's mouths and Satch breaks the moment because he's an adorable little cock blocker.

*

Peter pushes him up against a sink in a dark little restaurant in China Town and shoves his tongue so far down Neal's throat that he's probably aware of the status of Neal's teeth. It should be disgusting and wet but Neal's hard in seconds and his hands are on Peter's hips, thumbs through belt loops and he's ready to go, now, now, now.

Except that Peter the controlling, stubborn bastard is stepping away.

At least he's breathing as hard as Neal is.

It's not much of a consolation.

*

He touches El's breasts while Peter is talking to Jones in the Burkes' living room. They're in the backyard and anyone could see them but El had just smiled at him like she knew what he was thinking, like he was an idiot and his thumbs were sliding along her nipples, no preamble.

He knows he deserves a slap but she seems to be enjoying it. He wonders when was the last time Peter went down on his wife, her legs slung over his shoulders and really went for it, teeth and tongue.

He cups her breasts, gentle. Doesn't squeeze, even though he wants to. Women don't enjoy that as much men think they do.

He runs a nail across one nipple and watches her eyes fall shut, back arching just a bit and he's winning, because he's pretty fucking sure that Peter's wife is wet for him.

Peter calls her name and she steps back, lips wet and parted.

Yeah, he's won this one.

*

Or not. He honestly can't remember when he let Peter in, hell he can't remember his own name and damn it, men's nipples aren't supposed to be that sensitive.

He needs to rethink his entire approach.

He's leaking inside his pajamas and of course Peter burst in on him when he was about to go to bed, shirtless.

This is cheating, he thinks, distantly.

El had fabric between her skin and his hands. Peter's touching bare skin and that is just an unfair advantage.

Peter's leaning against him, chin hooked over his shoulder and they're almost hugging.

Except that hugging is an innocent exercise and he can feel Peter's cock against his thigh and it takes all the patience and control he has accumulated over the years of con after con after con to not slide to his knees and put his mouth on Peter's cock.

"I went down on her after you left."

Okay, maybe he hasn't won this one.

*

It accelerates after that.

He kisses her against their kitchen table and rubs himself against her thigh, once, twice, thrice.

Peter grabs his wrists and pushes them behind his back and rubs himself against Neal's stomach, once, twice.

He makes Neal's lip bleed.

Neal has to go to the bathroom and jerk off into the urinal.

It takes fifteen minutes for his hands to stop shaking.

He goes to their house when he knows Peter is in a meeting and steals a pair of El's panties.

He leaves her a note.

Peter makes him take off his pants in his fucking car and keeps his boxers.

He squirms through out dinner. Peter leaves him a receipt.

He hikes up El's skirt while Peter is in the bathroom and touches her through her panties, smooth, old, cotton.

Peter comes out before she can come.

Neal licks his fingers in front of her husband.

Peter has Neal pressed against his door the moment Neal allows him to step through it.

His grip is cruel and hard, nothing like the way Neal touched his wife and Neal knows Peter is mad about the lie Neal told this morning and this evening and the one he knows he's going to tell tonight.

He still wants Peter to fuck him.

Peter doesn't lick his fingers. Neal wonders if he'll do it in front of El or not at all.

*

Neal doesn't touch El for a few days. He's pretty sure Peter will take his head off if he tries anything.

But before he knows it he's sitting on their sofa and El's head is on his shoulder and she tilts her head to say something to him and he's kissing her mouth, her jaw, her cheek, her neck and her blouse is on the sofa and he's kneeling in front of her, fingers hooked through the wire of her bra and his mouth is pressed between her breasts and he wants to bite her nipples, gently, and push up her skirt until it's around her thighs and lick her, mercilessly, so that she comes in under a minute and he is very sure she will, the way she's twitching.

That's when her husband walks through the door.

They all stare at each other and none of them speak and Neal is even harder than before.

Peter jerks his eyes away and runs upstairs before any of them can do anything.

Neal leaves at once.

*

Peter doesn't look at him.

Neal thinks that the embarrassment and the taint of rejection should have killed his arousal but it hasn't.

He's jerking off three times a day and he screams Peter's name and El's name at regular intervals every night.

He's always hard and never satisfied and he'd be angry with Peter for what he's done if he wasn't absolutely gagging for Peter's cock.

He doesn't know who he is anymore.

They work together but they don't smile or make jokes and Peter never touches him.

El hasn't tried to contact him either and he's pretty sure she's in the doghouse too.

He thinks about saying something, along the lines of _I think about going to my knees for you every time you call me into your office_ or _I want to fuck your wife_ or _I want to fuck you_ or. Or I want you to fuck me.

Or. I'm sorry.

He doesn't.

*

In the end, El's the one who fixes them.

He knows how lucky they are to have her, this sane, clever, beautiful woman who sees past all their crap and fixes them.

She fixes them by one simple action.

She goes down on Neal. It's stupid and insane and crazy and she leaves his place looked slightly stunned.

He's definitely stunned. His entire body is alight because he did picture this, Peter's wife on his knees for him but he always pictured her doing it when her husband was in the room, watching Neal.

He wants to taunt Peter a little, write him a note or a letter of thank fucking you because El's mouth? Is sheer perfection.

She's sheer perfection.

He's half sure that Peter is going to kill him, and not the little death but the big one, painful and loud and Peter is going to disembowel him because he's pretty sure he wasn't supposed to come in Peter's wife's mouth.

Not yet at any rate.

He's the first one to get an orgasm in this game. The rules seem to have changed.

He decides to throw the rules away.

*

He goes over to their house the next day. Lets himself in. Peter is leaning against the counter, smiling at his wife while she makes coffee and Neal feels.

Like he isn't an intruder.

El sees him first and smiles. He grins back. Peter is stock still, watching him.

He steps across the kitchen and cages Peter in, one hand on either side, cold counter under his fingertips.

He kisses Peter, on the cheek, the jaw, his lined forehead.

And falls to his knees.


End file.
